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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29125332">Sick Day</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/boppgoestheweasel/pseuds/boppgoestheweasel'>boppgoestheweasel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the dadschlatt collection [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>DadSchlatt, Fluff, Kid Tubbo, No Hurt all Comfort, Quackity is sick, Rated for swearing, Sickfic, Very domestic, but Schlatt doesn't care, just wholesome, maybe ooc?, no beta we die like men, uncle quackity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:49:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,262</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29125332</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/boppgoestheweasel/pseuds/boppgoestheweasel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Quackity being sick won’t stop Schlatt from coming over and giving him company with his son.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexis | Quackity &amp; Jschlatt, Alexis | Quackity &amp; Toby Smith | Tubbo, Jschlatt &amp; Toby Smith | Tubbo, No Slash - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the dadschlatt collection [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080011</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>313</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sick Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! I know I said there would be more angst, but I figured why not post a fluffy part to loosen the ties. ;) This was a suggestion from user Sataroni!! Since I've caught up a bit with my requests (having only one or two more to write), I am opening them again!<br/>Do you, dear reader, have any requests/suggestions? Leave them in the comments below! 9 times out of 10 I will do them!</p><p>As always, everything I write is solely based on the characters portrayed in the SMP roleplay, never the real people! However, if any CCs are uncomfortable with anything I have ever written, it will be deleted immediately.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Okay, purple with stripes, or just the plain blue t-shirt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt was crouched in front of his four-year-old, asking him what he wanted to wear for the day. No, the kid wasn’t picky when it came to hardly anything, but Schlatt still wanted to give him some sense of responsibility.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man had a pounding headache from his drinking the night before; his vision was blurred and he was sure the stench of alcohol lingered on his breath. His eyes drifted shut every now and then as the migraine consuming his brain pulsed occasionally. However, this was a feeling he had grown accustomed to, considering, well, he dealt with it practically everyday.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite it being 8 in the morning, Tubbo was as energetic as always. While paying attention to his wardrobe choices in front of him, the boy swayed side to side, much like his father but for a much more happy reason. They were going to visit Uncle Quackity!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They hadn’t seen Quackity for maybe a week or so, a bit more, because he had gone to visit his mom up in El Rapids. Which was fine of course, Schlatt always urged Quackity to visit his mother, considering how lovely of a woman she was. Everyday Tubbo would ask if they would see him, but Schlatt had to let the boy down with each answer, which was a “no bud, probably not today.” Quackity had said he would be back in a week, but after that deadline he had called Schlatt to tell him he would be staying for a couple more days. Now he was home, and Schlatt wasn’t going to waste time on visiting him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure, they see each other all the time, they might as well live together. But something about Quackity being gone, out of L’Manberg, just really sucked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Schlatt got his kid ready, he let him run off and do what he wanted while he made breakfast; “made” is pouring cereal into a chipped bowl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could call Tubbo into the room though, the house phone started to buzz and ring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” Schlatt asked, his tired voice filling the house walls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, hey J, how’re you?” Quackity’s voice came from the other side of the line- it sounded just as tired as Schlatt’s. Nasally, even.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could be better. You?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, I don’t think you should come over today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The line went silent. Schlatt thought about his kid in the other room who would be absolutely devastated. It was only a week and a few days, sure, but he sure did love his Uncle Quackity. And Schlatt definitely didn’t think about how he missed Quackity in such a short amount of time- he would never admit it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Care to give a reason?” Schlatt finally spoke after what seemed too long of a silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, uh, well, I think I caught something-” He took a second to cough. “-in El Rapids. It was probably from that very gross ass cabin my mom and I visited.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re sick?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt rolled his eyes. “Why the hell does that matter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I just don’t want you or Tubbo getting sick. That wouldn’t be good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who fucking cares? Survival of the fittest.” Schlatt huffed. “Besides, I already got Tubbo ready. That was a lot of work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The ram was over exaggerating. It was always a cakewalk when he had to get his kid ready.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“No man, I really think we should just wait until tomorrow. Maybe even the next day…” Quackity let out a cough. “This is probably really contagious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see you in a bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Schlatt-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Quackity could say anything else, Schlatt hung up the phone. Ridiculous, the man thought. Ridiculous that Quackity would think he cared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, he cared if his kid got sick, but that was an easy fix. It’s not like he would die or anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tubbo! Come eat your cereal.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amidst the rain, Schlatt brought Tubbo to the front door of Quackity’s house, allowing him to play in some puddles before he swung open the door to reveal himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honey, I’m home!” The ram called as a joke, stroking his feet on the doormat so he didn’t bring in any unwanted rain water. Tubbo followed after him, doing the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dear fuck, you scared me.” Quackity was on the couch- his hair was smeared against his forehead as he clutched his chest, probably from the mentioned spook. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoops. Anyways, you look terrible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Quackity rolled his eyes. “So do you, to be fair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right right.” Tubbo ran over to Quackity, squealing when he finally saw the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Tubbster!” Quackity took the kid in his arms- maybe not the best thing to do when a man is sick, but Tubbo initiated it, so he couldn’t really say no. The kid didn’t seem to care about the man who was a bit too warm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus, it’s so cold in here.” Schlatt went over to the fireplace and took his lighter to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not! I’m fucking sweating man, put that out!” Quackity jumped up, setting Tubbo on the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sit the hell down.” Schlatt shoved Quackity back down onto the couch, to which the younger man huffed. “It’s literally-” Schlatt looked to the room thermometer on the wall next to the door. “60 degrees in here. It’s like, 27 degrees outside, what the fuck is wrong with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My dumbass is sick, remember?” Quackity grumbled, “My sense of temperature is fucked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah yeah. Well, what’s your temp?” Schlatt asked, looking over to Quackity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, I haven’t taken it yet. I couldn’t find-” Quackity’s mouth broke open with a cough. “I couldn’t find the thermometer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What a fucking mess you are,” Schlatt teased, shaking his head. He went into the bathroom- the only place he could assume the duck placed a thermometer- and he opened up the medicine cabinet. During all the rattling, he could hear his son talking to his friend out in the living room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re super sweaty,” Tubbo said matter-of-factly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Quackity laughed; Schlatt could tell he enjoyed the company.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, are you dying, Uncle Quackity?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The duck didn’t respond at first. He was probably taken aback by the question just like Schlatt was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no of course not. I’m just sick, Tubbo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” the boy’s voice was small, full of relief. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt sighed. Why was Tubbo so worried about death? He was only four and Schlatt would say he’s rather sheltered, considering the only places he goes are daycare and… well, home. Everything that Tubbo asked centered around death, no matter what it was. A snail on the sidewalk? “Papa, will the snail die?” A puppy? “Papa, did that puppy’s mom die?” Schlatt had looked it up; it was completely normal in development for kids at that age to be discussing death but… it was still really unsettling. Kinda funny though, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally after some rummaging, Schlatt found the thermometer. He made his way back out to the living room, where Tubbo was sitting politely, smushed into Quackity’s side while the both of them watched whatever movie was on the TV. Tubbo looked very content next to the man- very happy that he was able to see him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I finally found this magic piece of plastic.” Schlatt waved the thermometer in the air, strutting to stand in front of a sick Quackity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh good. Where was it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In some cabinet. Just put it in the damn medicine cabinet.” Schlatt took off the cap, inspecting the tiny metal tip. “Does this thing need to be washed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, I’d say so.” Quackity shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt feigned a groan on his way to the kitchen. He ran the thermometer under some water… surely you don’t put soap on it, right? That would taste like shit. So he just took a small washcloth and rubbed the tip clean before he returned to the living room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, open up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, what the hell? Give me the thermometer, I’ll just do it myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt pushed Quackity back down to the couch. “I’m sure your sweaty ass hands won’t even be able to keep the grip. Just open your damn mouth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is ridiculous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re ridiculous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quackity rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, crossing his arms over his chest. Tubbo was giggling watching Quackity put up such a fuss. Hey, he took care of Schlatt when he needed it and didn’t want it, so now it was Schlatt’s turn to take care of Quackity… even if he didn’t really know how to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A whopping 102 degrees.” Schlatt scoffed, acting like he was disgusted by the spit-covered thermometer, when in reality it didn’t bother him in the slightest, considering they had been best friends for quite some time. “No wonder you’re all sweaty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why are you all sweaty?” Quackity shot back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha ha.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quackity smirked, making himself more comfortable on the couch. Tubbo had moved to the chair and was watching the TV intently while his (practically) dads bickered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what, do I make you soup now?” Schlatt threw his hands up, genuinely unaware of what to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Schlatt. You shouldn’t even be here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a lot more moody when you’re sick, you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a gift, my mom would say.” Quackity gave a sly smile; Schlatt narrowed his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever, just stay here and don’t move. I don’t want your sickness spreading around the house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you even know how bacteria works?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be quiet, we wouldn’t want you straining your sore throat now, would we?” Schlatt faked a pout and pat Quackity on the head before he covered him in blankets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no way I’ll survive under these!” Quackity called to Schlatt who was already in the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You gotta sweat the fever out, stupid!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quackity didn’t say another word. Schlatt laughed to himself and opened up a cupboard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took him a few different cabinets to finally locate the soup, and he grabbed the first familiar can- Chicken Noodle Soup. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Classic. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You could never go wrong with Chicken Noodle Soup.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cooking was fine, obviously, considering soup was easy to cook. Schlatt poured the goods into a bowl and made his way out to the living room with a spoon in his hand as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna fucking feed me too?” Quackity scrunched his nose, looking up at Schlatt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, unless you wanted me to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quackity deadpanned and waved the soup over, to which Schlatt handed him the soup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where did my kid go?” Schlatt asked, noticing that Tubbo was gone from his place on the chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, he went to my room, I think. I’m really not sure.” Quackity coughed. “You close your eyes for one moment…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah well, if he dies it’s your fault.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quackity scoffed and just started to chug the soup, not even worrying about grabbing the spoon from Schlatt’s hand. The man watched his friend drink the piping hot soup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh uh, did you want some?” Quackity held up the almost-empty bowl of soup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, keep your fucking soup. That shit was hot as hell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It felt nice on my throat. Tasted like shit though. How did you manage to fuck up a can of soup?” Quackity teased, finishing his soup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You asked for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did not-” Quackity started, but then he realized it wasn’t even worth it. Schlatt laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uncle Quackity!” Tubbo called as he ran down the hall. Both men turned towards the boy who had paper in his hands… it was folded. Poorly folded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s up, kid?” Quackity sat up a bit, and Schlatt took the bowl from his hands. This was all disgustingly domestic, but something about it didn’t bother Schlatt too much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I made this for you.” Tubbo shuffled forward and handed Quackity the poorly folded piece of paper that had crayon drawings all over it. Yes, they were still relatively scribbles, but he was getting better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, thank you buddy.” Quackity smiled and opened the card. There were more scribbles, and one specific scribble looked like Quackity himself, and next to him was a smaller figure, whom he assumed to be Tubbo. They were holding hands and smiling; Quackity had a red stick coming from his mouth… probably the thermometer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It says to feel better! And to get less sweaty!” Tubbo smiled, climbing up onto the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, that’s what it says. Thank you, Tubbo.” Quackity gave Tubbo a hair-ruffle and allowed the boy to give a small head-butt on his arm before settling into his side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Real cute. Now you should sleep.” Schlatt clapped his hands together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’m not tired.” Quackity furrowed his brows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah right, I saw you passed out while I was making that soup. So just lay down, close your eyes, and get your beauty sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quackity was once again pushed into the couch and instead of protesting, he actually took Schlatt’s word. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Schlatt sat at the chair and he looked over to where Tubbo was sitting on the couch, trying to get comfortable as Quackity was taking up pretty much the whole couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tubbo, why don’t you sit over here?” Schlatt waved to Tubbo, getting his attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay!” The boy smiled, and he went over to his dad. Schlatt allowed him to sit in the chair with him while they watched the movie playing on the TV.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, the trio weren’t able to do anything fun that day, but Schlatt thought that was okay. Sometimes, sick days are acceptable. And later, when Quackity’s fever had gone down, he was glad he had shown up. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you enjoyed! Again, if you have any requests/suggestions, leave them in the comments! Feel free to request stuff outside the realms of dadschlatt, too! I love all of you guys, please take care and drink some water! :) &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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